At Least You Know I Need You
by arysa13
Summary: Archie gets sick while Fred is out of town and Betty takes care of him


"Betty, I'm dying," Archie groans from his bed as she walks into his room. His voice is slightly nasally from his blocked nose, and he's looking utterly pathetic, swaddled in blankets. His hair is a mess and his nose is all red, the rest of his face contrastingly pale. Betty gives him a dubious look before sitting beside him on the bed. She puts her hand to his forehead, though it's perfectly obvious that he's sick.

"You're not dying," she says, trying to suppress a smile. "You just have a cold."

"No, I'm dying," Archie repeats, adamant. Betty can't help but chuckle. Not as his misfortune, but at how dramatic he's being. He really is pathetic when he's sick.

Archie pouts at her laughter. "We'll see if you're still laughing at my funeral," he complains.

"I'm sorry," Betty says, and she is, a little bit. "Well, since you're dying and your dad won't be back until tomorrow night, I guess I'd better take care of you," she muses. Archie nods, and Betty smiles.

"But don't tell anyone," Archie says. She pats his arm. He's going to be perfectly fine within a couple of days, but in the meantime, it might be nice to try and take care of him for a while. He's always trying to take care of others; his dad, Veronica, Betty. It's rare that he lets himself be vulnerable. Which is probably why he doesn't want anyone else to know. Possibly why he called her and not Veronica.

"I'm going to go and make you a honey and lemon drink, okay?" Betty says, standing up. "Do you want something to eat as well?"

"I don't know," Archie says.

"I'll bring some soup as well," Betty says. Archie nods and Betty heads downstairs. The fridge is pretty empty, and while there is honey in the pantry, there isn't a trace of lemons or soup. Betty quickly heads out to the shops to pick up some stuff, grabbing some cold and flu medicine and a couple of boxes of tissues while she's at it.

When she gets back she heats up the soup and boils the kettle, then brings the soup and drink up to Archie's room, along with a large bottle of water she carries under her arm.

"Where'd you go?" Archie asks as Betty places the soup and drink on his nightstand. She sits back down on the bed next to him, cradling the bottle of water.

"I had to get you some things from the store," Betty tells him. "Sit up," she commands. Archie does as he's bid and Betty reaches around behind him to rearrange his pillows so he can still lie against them in his upright position. Betty then hands him his honey and lemon drink. Archie takes a sip and screws up his nose.

"Don't be such a baby," Betty says. "It will make your throat feel better."

Archie takes another sip, but he doesn't look happy about it. He puts the drink down and picks up the soup. Clearly, he is hungry after all.

"Thanks, Betty," he says, swallowing another mouthful. "I don't know what I'd do without you."

"Luckily you'll never have to find out," Betty says. "I also brought you some drugs. They should clear up your nose and head for a few hours. Maybe take the drowsy ones and have a nap."

Archie nods, continuing to eat his soup, and take a sip of the drink he doesn't like every now and again. Betty studies him, for a moment, then opens her mouth to say something. She pauses, and Archie notices.

"What's wrong?" he asks.

"Why…" she starts, before deciding that's the wrong question. She changes it slightly. "Do you want me to let Veronica know you're sick?"

Archie shakes his head.

"Don't want to get her sick?" Betty guesses. "Or just don't want her to see you sick?"

Archie shrugs. "She wouldn't know what to do," he says simply. And yet it feels like such a loaded statement. Betty glances down, unable to meet his eyes. She tries not to think about what he doesn't say, the things his simple words imply. She busies herself by popping a couple of tablets into her hand and giving them to Archie. He puts one in his mouth and Betty hands him the bottle of water to wash them down with.

"You need to keep your fluids up," she tells him. Archie swallows the second tablet. "Are you going to sleep now?"

"Yeah, I think so," Archie says. "If that's what the doctor prescribes. You're the doctor in this situation."

Betty smiles. "Okay. I'll leave you to it. You can call me if you wake up and need anything."

"No, don't go," Archie says, looking hurt.

"But you're going to be asleep."

"If you need to go, you can go," Archie concedes. "But you can nap with me if you want." He puts the bottle of water down and rearranges his pillows before snuggling back down into his blankets. Betty watches him, feeling a rush of affection for him. How can she go when he wants her to stay?

"Fine," she sighs. "I'll stay."

"I want to be the little spoon."

Betty shakes her head with a small smile as she slips off her shoes and sweater. Archie moves over to let her under the covers, and she slides in behind him, wrapping her arms around him. His bare back radiates warmth.

"Night, Betty," Archie murmurs drowsily, though it's only early afternoon.

"Night, Arch," Betty whispers. She presses her lips to his bare shoulder gently, just for a second. Archie doesn't make any response, probably already asleep. Betty closes her eyes, though she doesn't think she'll fall asleep. But if she can provide him with comfort for a few hours, she's happy to do it. And if she feels comforted by his presence too, well there's no shame in that.


End file.
